My Kitchen Sink

Amendment to Previous Mediocrity

Remember all that bullshit I spewed before about a happy medium?

Forget it

Right now my life is better described in wilting roses and modern baseball

Than a crappy poem about a white cloud

Such a pretty picture

Too bad because I'm in the middle of a dust storm

You can only mess so many things up

And then the realization hits that you're actually the problem

It's not very surprising

But it still cuts like a knife

And every action I make is one more sawing motion

And I'm becoming close to hitting my breaking point

There's not much left to saw through

And it's even worse when you're your own knife

So stab me a hundred times

But I can only wound myself

And I have

Over and over

And it keeps coming back to one solution

The only problem is me

And the dust keeps whirling

 And my troubles keep turning

Every second I stand is like a punch in the face

But just like those in the south I'll recover

But don't tell the world about the sunshine in your bones

Because it chooses to take it as a challenge

So I'll take my good days but I will also control this whirling duststorm

It's all an adventure